


sesame syrup vol. 2

by beobleteas



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Dom sub undertones, English translation, Friends With Benefits, Hand Kink, M/M, Mirror Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Praise Kink, Size Kink, Unprotected Sex, band!au, bot!won, cursing, top!gyu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:29:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28189998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beobleteas/pseuds/beobleteas
Summary: As the Evil Queen once said, “Mirror mirror on the wall, who’s the fairest of them all?” here Mingyu is, asking the glass in front of them.“Mirror mirror on the wall, who’s the most gorgeous of them all?”
Relationships: Jeon Wonwoo/Kim Mingyu
Comments: 3
Kudos: 148





	sesame syrup vol. 2

**Author's Note:**

> translated by the best one, [bloominsummer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloominsummer/pseuds/bloominsummer) ♥️
> 
> was published on YMMD in bahasa indonesia. and please, please do a safe sex instead.

If asked to rate how much danger he’s in on the scale of 1-10, Mingyu’s probably going to choose 9. He still remembers how he had run three red lights so that he wouldn’t be late to an event—how that had ended up in him slapped with a fine when paying his road taxes. He can also remember when his mother threatened to destroy all of the musical instruments in his recording and practice studio, just because he had rightfully sided with his father in an argument. In those perilous moments, Mingyu only let out long exhales, because he knew he’d be alright afterwards.

But not today, when there’s a man seated on his lap, his index finger applying pressure over the black and white keys, one at a time. The problem isn’t the discordant notes that fill the air when Wonwoo presses the wrong key—it’s when he moves. The resulting friction frustrates Mingyu and he swears it’s the first time he’s ever felt defeated by the cat-like guitarist.

“I don’t think I ever gave you permission to sit here, Wonwoo.”

“But you never told me I couldn’t, either,” refutes Wonwoo, turning slightly to the side to ensure Mingyu can see his smile. His Cheshire grin.

“It doesn’t mean you have a right.” There’s a pause before his arm moves to wrap around Wonwoo’s slim waist and his head comes to rest on the broad shoulder. Then Mingyu’s whispering, “Who do you think you are, hm?”

Wonwoo doesn’t answer him straightaway, or more accurately, he can’t. All of his thoughts and plans come to a halt thanks to the hand that slips under his pants, searching for something obvious.

“You’d enjoy getting railed inside the studio, wouldn’t you?”

“We… we’ve never done it h-here before…”

“So you want us to do it on every surface of my house?”

“I’d love to.”

One of Wonwoo’s favourite body parts of Mingyu is his hand. How good the short, pudgy fingers are when contrasted with his wide palm. And most importantly, how good it looks when it’s gripping something. Fantasies play in his mind whenever he sees the younger man fixing the snares of his bass. Helping out their crew to lift this and that. Opening soda cans to share with their other members.

This very second, there are only two things the hand is currently doing, which is to hug Wonwoo (more likely hold him so he won’t fall off), and slowly massage his cock. It might be frustrating, but it does feel so good and Wonwoo can’t complain.

Mingyu knows that he makes him fly to the sky.

Lifting one hand, his finger touches the guitarist’s lips. Wonwoo takes it as a cue, lips parting and tongue slipping out to lick the digit before he starts swallowing around it. He sucks it hard, as if Mingyu’s finger is one of those rainbow lollipops he likes to buy at the supermarket. Wonwoo’s eyes are closed, his member twitching down south.

When he opens his eyes again, there’s a thought that immediately makes him stand up. There’s Mingyu and his gaze, straight and dark, prominent worry lines written across his forehead.

“What is it?”

“Lock the door…”

He runs just like that, his pants hanging low on his hips, lips slick with his own spit.

Their practice studio is spacious enough, thanks to Mingyu and his family. There’s a glass in front of them, one that separates the control and live recording rooms. A number of the instruments here have been around since before Wonwoo got acquainted with Mingyu, even more in his bedroom that he’s visited so often that he’s lost count.

He returns to find Mingyu sitting on the chair in the middle of the room, away from the keyboard. Mingyu is a sight to see: his white shirt frames his pectorals, nipples visible from underneath the fabric—Wonwoo likes to pinch them when he’s feeling playful—and the bulge formed under those sweatpants looks tempting. Mingyu sometimes treats him like a king and to sit on his lap simply means Wonwoo is sitting on his throne.

“Why did you move? Afraid we’ll ruin the keyboard?” asks Wonwoo as he goes to sit there, facing Mingyu. He touches the younger’s lower jaw with his index finger, trailing down to his neck and clothed body. Slipping his hand underneath the shirt, caressing the abdomen he’s allowed to touch.

“Don’t pinch me.”

“Why?”

“Wonw—” The rest of his sentence is cut off. Mingyu’s eyes are squeezed shut, his body tensed.

“Tell me, Mingyu, what do you want to do?”

The hold around his body consequently lifts Wonwoo as Mingyu rises from his seat, turning his body around in his embrace.

“Take off your clothes.”

“Gyu—”

“Everything. Strip yourself.”

Wonwoo sighs before he starts to pull his shirt and when he drops it, he immediately knows what Mingyu wants.

Staring back at Wonwoo is a full-body reflection of himself, their increased distance from the glass making his aforementioned throne entirely visible, and so will Wonwoo when he returns to his rightful place.

“Mirror, mirror on the wall…” Mingyu’s palm is extended toward him, both guiding and welcoming Wonwoo back to his lap. “Who’s the most gorgeous of them all?”

“I don’t recall all the princesses… Aurora? Snow White?”

“Jeon Wonwoo.”

Nice one.

“What about you? Aren’t you going to take off your clothes?”

“I have you prepare you first, Wonwoo.”

“Just admit that you’re afraid of losing control so soon.”

“You wish, babe.”

“Such a buzzkill.”

Mingyu cocks an eyebrow, forehead creasing in disapproval.

“Face this way.”

Wonwoo only turns his body slightly, a thin smile playing on his lips. The other’s gaze does nothing but fuel his desires, causing them to skyrocket.

“Take off my clothes for me.”

“You have your own hands.”

“But I’m asking you to do it, Wonwoo. Don’t be a brat.”

The command is a permission Wonwoo takes to continue his previously paused action: drawing circles near Mingyu’s navel. His eyes shutting and lips gaping makes such a good combination on Mingyu, Wonwoo claims, before he pulls his shirt and tosses it to the floor.

“Did you work out before?”

“How did you know?”

“You look buffer, so big.”

The next touch begins on Mingyu’s upper arms and ends on the waistband of his pants, another grey sweatpants he owns. When Wonwoo gets down from his lap for a moment, his hands too come down to rid Mingyu of the things blocking Wonwoo’s sight of him. Wonwoo wants it fair, wants to savour Mingyu just as the younger is savouring him.

“Can I have a seat again?”

“Sure.”

The current situation—their skin against skin, reflections on the glass in front of them—it’s hard to say whether it’s a blessing or curse. His breath hitches when an arm winds around his body, then Wonwoo moans when a finger is buried deep inside him. The pace of Mingyu’s attacks is ever-changing, so Wonwoo can only hold on to his trust in Mingyu, who will no doubt put their mutual pleasure above his need for control. Besides, Wonwoo’s experienced much more than this, so he shouldn’t—

“MINGYU, FUCK!”

There’s no reason for Mingyu to suddenly prod at a particular spot with ruthless speed. His right hand is splayed between Wonwoo’s navel and v-line, the older’s body growing heated and restless. He kisses Wonwoo’s bare shoulders until he loses all restraints and starts leaving marks on him.

“Mingyu, you’re such an asshole!”

“I can’t hear you, sweetheart.”

“You… —ngh, your fingers feel so good… right there… right there, please!”

He pushes back against his fingers, grinding down on the digit while moans keep slipping from his pretty mouth. Mingyu’s breathing shallowed, as though the entire room filled with carbon monoxide threatening to knock him unconscious. Perhaps the skin on his fingers is all wrinkled now, but to tease this gorgeous man’s prostate is a whole other thing.

“Do you feel good, kitten?”

“Gyu— I can’t take it… I-I’m going to come…”

“What are you so fast for?” he says casually, reaching a hand down to touch Wonwoo’s hardness. He’s got a pretty long one, the size is decent though it doesn’t differ much when erect. Mingyu knows this detail off the top of his head. His hand may share the same sentiment, considering how frequent he uses it to massage and stroke Wonwoo. Wonwoo, who will begin to shout in pleasure when Mingyu makes small circles with his thumb. Wonwoo, whose shouts will morph into curses when Mingyu teases him at the tip.

“Your finger—n-not there, fuck, I’m close…”

“I’m just trying to help you.”

“MINGYU—”

Everything turns white when his back presses against the bassist’s chest. His breathing is ruined, eyes half-closed, torso painted with his own milky release.

“Wonwoo, listen to me.”

“Wait a minute, I’m tired.”

“Just listen.” Mingyu pulls him closer and fixes Wonwoo’s position on his lap. “I’m not sleeping with anyone else but you.” Wonwoo remains silent, offering Mingyu no response. “Can we not use protection?”

“Huh?” He turns around in an instant, question lines decorating his forehead.

“I swear you’re the only one.”

“But it’s still not safe.”

Mingyu then smiles and gives a nod, “Okay.”

What Wonwoo didn’t expect here is to receive a gentle touch on his left cheek. Is this what bandmates do? Is this what friends with benefits do? And is this how it’s supposed to feel?

He stands up when Mingyu rises from his seat, only to be ridden with doubts that make him snatch the condom package from Mingyu’s hands before he speaks again.

“You’re… really clean right?”

“If you don’t trust me, then I won’t force you to.”

“Just this once.”

It’s because Wonwoo is much more curious than he initially thought. He remembers how it feels being so full of Mingyu better than the chords of the songs in their first album (please don’t tell this to any of his bandmates). Remembers how he’s always taken to fucking him like he plans on splitting Wonwoo in half. Mingyu and his thrusts that have their own addictive properties to them.

But how would it feel like, to be filled by his cum?

Wonwoo positions himself over Mingyu’s body with the bassist’s lubed cock prodding at his rim. His eyes roll as he forces his body down, Mingyu sliding inside his hole.

“Wonwoo, move.”

He follows the command, lifting his body and bringing it back down at his desired speed. Once in a while he throws his head back, his eyes shut. Wonwoo feels overwhelmed, it feels… so good.

“Face forward, kitten.”

Wonwoo opens his eyes to see his reflection in front of him, his body moving up and down by his own effort. To see how their bodies connect to each other, every move he does—Wonwoo’s eyes begin to water.

“Watch how I slip inside you, Wonwoo. See how ruined you are right now, all because of me.”

His hands fly to find something he can grab until he finds Mingyu’s, used for support to angle his thrust. His gaze still hasn’t detached from Mingyu’s orbs on the glass, as cocky as always.

“Mingyu… —ngh, help me out…” Wonwoo’s head lolls back whenever he feels Mingyu striking at his prostate.

“I asked you to watch yourself, kitten, come on.”

“I can’t take it anym—GYU! Fuck.”

“Yes, you take me so well, baby. You do it well.”

“Please… I want it, Mingyu…”

“Which part of me—fuck, Wonwoo, don’t _clench_ like that. Which part of me do you want?”

There’s a short pause as Wonwoo mulls the question over, looking at the glass in front of him to momentarily drown in his thoughts.

“Can I get your cum, please? Inside me.”

Mingyu’s cock immediately twitches inside his tight hole. He’s near, he can feel that, but he doesn’t need Wonwoo to torture him further. Mingyu begins to thrust slowly then, and Wonwoo loses his sanity.

“Mingyu… why is yours so big…” he mumbles with half a mind, his hands gripping Mingyu’s tighter and tighter.

“So I can make you feel good like I’m doing right now?”

“I feel good, but it’s so full—ngh, Gyu…”

The words give Mingyu a concealed signal from the man seated on his lap. Wonwoo’s own orgasm is near, his second for the day, and Mingyu doesn’t have the heart to make him wait any longer than he already has.

“Need some help?”

“Kitten.”

“Kitten?”

“Please, call me…”

He connects the dots. Mingyu releases his left hand from Wonwoo’s grip to caress the skin beneath his chin, whispering, “No one will fuck you as good as I do, right, kitten?”

With his breathing a mess, Mingyu picks up his pace until Wonwoo yields and stutters out his name as he reaches his climax. Another mess happens as Wonwoo grinds down hard, bouncing and forcing his own hole on Mingyu’s cock, sending him to overstimulation. Mingyu’s breathing grows even more catastrophic, the propulsion of his hips irregular, and his mouth can’t stop making incoherent garbles. He keeps brushing his hair back when he pushes in to find the deepest point he can find.

Wonwoo trembles hard when Mingyu spurts his seeds inside him, cumming continuously until he feels so damn warm and full. His hand comes to Wonwoo’s aid, supporting him as he stands up. When he pulls out, the warm liquid leaks out of Wonwoo’s hole, trickling down his thighs to the floor of the studio.

But Mingyu’s insane like this, because he pounds his cock into Wonwoo again, holding his release from coming out. It’s supposed to be Wonwoo’s, and his kitten needs to swallow them all.

“That feels so damn good, it’s crazy. You drive me crazy, Wonwoo,” he breathes out in a heavy exhale, hand still holding Wonwoo who’s leaning against his chest.

“Your sperm, Gyu.”

“They’re all yours.”

“I feel… so _full_.”

The gesture that invites Wonwoo’s confusion back into the scene is how gently Mingyu strokes his head upon hearing those words, signalling Wonwoo to face him. After he does, Mingyu immediately kisses him like the hungry man he is. It goes fast, rough and messy. They part with a dark gaze before sharing another kiss all over again. More passionate, clammy but full of emotion.

And finally, a forehead kiss.

“A good boy deserves a reward, Wonwoo.” Mingyu’s fingers caress said boy’s nose, his lips, his jaw, and kiss him again. “So I’m asking you, what kind of reward to you want?”

**Author's Note:**

> ♡ [Twitter](https://twitter.com/bumwoozle) ♡ [Curious Cat](https://curiouscat.qa/dramaturgi) ♡


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